


Failure Required

by samworth



Category: Hogan's Heroes
Genre: D-Day, D-Day's 75th Anniversary, Decoy, Gen, Operation Bodyguard, getting played
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-14 00:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19262158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samworth/pseuds/samworth
Summary: Failure never had been an option. And yet it happened in one of their most important missions. But did they really fail or were they just a pawn in a bigger game?





	1. Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Written for D-Day's 75th Anniversary and Abracadebra's challenge.  
> Special thanks to Abracadebra for beta reading! Thank you very much! All remaining mistakes are my own.

The usual noise alerted Kinch that the entry to the emergency tunnel was pulled opened. Dropping his pencil, he hurried to the ladder.

It wasn't even nine o'clock. They were back far too early. As he reached the entrance, Hogan, Carter, Newkirk and LeBeau were already down.

Kinch froze as he saw them. He was used to waiting and manning the radio, so he had seen them returning in various states, from gleeful to bleak, but never defeated like now. Newkirk lay beside the ladder while Carter still held his arm where he had helped him to reach the tunnel in time. LeBeau leaned against the wall, his SS uniform torn at his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind the small drops of blood that decorated his collar, or maybe he just hadn't seen them yet. Colonel Hogan had brought up the rear and still held on the ladder with one hand.

"Did you get the papers?" Hogan asked, his eyes intently searching the faces of his men. Holding out hope against hope, he bent down and grabbed Newkirk's shoulders, shaking him slightly.

Silently, Newkirk shook his head. The confirmation hurt.

Hogan jerked back. Slowly, the implications of this dawned upon him and devastation appeared on his face. Kinch knew it was mirrored on his own face.

"We failed," Hogan stated, his voice cracking. His mouth was drawn into a small line, his eyes wide. The look on his face combined with the gray Wehrmacht uniform gave him the appearance of a real German.

Kinch towered over the exhausted men. The smell of sweat and blood lingered in the air, mixed with a piney fragrance.

"At least we're alive," Newkirk muttered as he struggled to his feet. Carter still held his arm. "Didn't look like it for a while back there."

That Newkirk didn't shake off the hand worried Kinch more than the shaky breaths. Everybody was breathing hard in a way only fear mixed with intensive physical exertion could induce. He grimaced as he came to the only sound conclusion: They had run for their lives.

"They still have these papers," Hogan repeated with more heat in his voice. Shaking off the stunned shock, he started to pace. "Do you know what that means?" he asked without addressing anybody.

Newkirk bristled as if he took the question personally while he pressed his hand against his side. He wore all black as the only one out of uniform of any kind, and Kinch couldn't tell if he was bleeding. "No, it's not like we received a full briefing! All we got was an order to get back these papers that London lost before they reach Berlin!" Newkirk shot back, before lowering his gaze, remembering who he was talking to.

A hush settled across the tunnel and not even the humming of the generator powering the radio helped to lighten the oppressive force of this silence.

"We all knew the stakes," Kinch said carefully. In truth only Hogan and Kinch knew the full scope and importance of the mission. "What went wrong?" He reached out to pull Newkirk into the light, trying to see if he was seriously hurt.

"We couldn't retrieve the papers," Colonel Hogan repeated as if he couldn't believe it. Angrily, he opened his coat, pulled it off and threw it into the nearest corner. His chest heaved with every breath. "The one time it really mattered, and we fail."

"We did everything we could," Carter said. "It's not our fault that London lost the papers. If they were so important, then they should have protected them better."

"Oui," LeBeau agreed. "They didn't even tell us what's so important about these papers." His skin color was improving, from white as a sheet to a more natural color. LeBeau stepped away from the ladder. Better light on his face revealed small red dots on his cheek. For a moment Kinch assumed them to be infected cuts from shaving or maybe a rash, but then he realized that these dots had the same source as the blood on his collar. Somebody had been shot near him and his blood had been sprayed allover LeBeau. The black uniform hid the most but Kinch didn't want to risk LeBeau fainting the moment he saw the blood on his face.

Moving slowly, Hogan turned to face Carter. He spoke so softly, Kinch had to lean forward to understand his words. "We failed in the most important mission ever."

Kinch remained silent. Instead, he helped Newkirk out of his dark shirt and used it as a cloth. After he wet it in basin with water, he grabbed LeBeau's chin. "You've got there something," he murmured and wiped away the blood before LeBeau could pull away. The dark cloth ensure that he didn't see the red. Then he inspected Newkirk's side, but it seemed just to be bruised, maybe some cracked rips by the way he held them and was hunched forward. Without any doubt, Kinch knew that sending for Wilson now would be a waste of time. Instead, he asked Colonel Hogan the next important question: "What do I tell London?" They needed to be informed as soon as possible. Besides the colonel, he was probably the only one qualified to make the call.

Taking a deep breath, Hogan straightened. "How much time do we have left?"

Kinch blinked. "A few hours." It was enough time to try again. And yet it wasn't enough time to recover from the failure.

"You want to try again?" LeBeau glared. Then he started to furiously pull off his clothes. "Well, without me. I was almost shot. The bullet missed me by just a few inches. The only thing saving me was that I am a little smaller than the average German. If I ..." He continued his tirade, alternating in French and English.

"Corporal LeBeau!" Kinch almost never raised his voice. His rank and reputation, not to forget his height and strength, ensured that it was rarely necessary. Normally, Kinch would have let LeBeau blow of some steam and waited until he came back but this time everything was different.

LeBeau fumed but stopped. At least something the French Air Force had done right. With narrowed eyes, LeBeau stared at Kinch and waited for him to explain. His hands were shaking. So he tried to hide them behind his back, but Kinch saw them. LeBeau had been aware that there was blood on his cheek, on his neck, on his collar and shirt. He had been aware of it the whole time. Only in the most gruesome circumstance something as bad as LeBeau's fear of blood could be overridden — by a stronger fear, the fear for his life.

Kinch glanced to the colonel. He didn't yet seem to have swallowed the unexpected failure. "These papers are important enough to warrant another try," Kinch explained, hoping that he'd said the right thing.

"They already have the papers!" Newkirk growled. "We can't undo what they already know. I'm sure that somebody has already read them. It doesn't matter if we managed to steal the papers back as long as somebody has read them." He grimaced in pain as he pulled over his blue uniform shirt. "Our untimely demise won't change that fact."

"How detailed is your memory?" Kinch shot back. "In this case the details are the important parts and were written down because you can't memorize them easily."

"But now they'll know that we are trying to get these papers back," Carter pointed out. He seemed already recovered from the run. His breathing was even and normal.

"Who cares?" Newkirk asked irritated. He moved his arms as if he wanted to throw his hands in the air but abandoned the movement as his ribs protested. The heat of his voice was lost as he doubled over in pain. "Oh!" He lowered himself down on the nearest stool. "We are in no fighting condition. It doesn't matter if they are prepared or not."

"Colonel?" Kinch addressed Hogan. It would be his decision as he had to carry the consequences. Hogan raised his head and glanced at the walls around and above him. The torches were only small lights in the surrounding darkness.

"We need to try again. But first we need a plan -"

"We can't try again!" LeBeau argued while Carter shifted behind him in an effort to show his silent support. Everything was wrong about this situation.

"What's so bloody important that we shall die for it?"

Leave it to Newkirk to get to the heart of it, because nothing else another try would be. Suicide mission was also a good description.

Hogan balled his fists. They hadn't been cleared to discuss details with the rest of the team. Everything was strictly need-to-know, and Kinch only knew because he had been the one to take the message as Hogan had been unavailable, forced to attend a dinner by Klink and General Burkhalter.

"We need to inform London, Colonel," Kinch reminded him. The discussion was only delaying the inevitable. He met Hogan's glare face on.

"This is worse than a firing squad," Hogan whispered. Nobody was supposed to hear these words but in the emptiness of the tunnel Kinch still heard them. The colonel looked away for a short moment before he squared his shoulders. "I'll make the call." Stiffly, he moved to the radio room, every step seemed to be slower than the previous one.

"What's going on?" Carter asked. "I thought we need to try again?"

Kinch swallowed hard. "We do need to try again, but first we need to inform London. Hopefully they have a backup plan."

"Backup plan for what?" Newkirk's carefully paced breathing matched his sickly pallor.

It was need-to-know information but for the moment they needed all the motivation they could get. They needed to know the stakes. Kinch made a decision. With a tilt of his head he directed LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk to follow him to the radio room.

Colonel Hogan had already London on the radio.

"That's great news!" London said. It was a new voice and Kinch didn't know the name or rank that went with it.

Hogan's shoulder tensed. The miscommunication forced him to repeat that he had failed. They had failed as a team but for London he was the sole person responsible. Kinch didn't envy him for this position.

"Negative," Hogan said. "We were unable to retrieve the package. Repeat. Package not secure. Objective missed. Repeat. The mission was a failure."

"Oh," the voice on the other side didn't sound any different. Maybe they had understood the colonel after all. "Well, you tried. Let's not fail again, all right Papa Bear? We need you. We can't change plans anymore and will proceed according to the plan. London out."

Hogan slowly lowered the mouthpiece before he ripped off the headphones that hadn't even been plugged in.

"They didn't sound angry at all," LeBeau remarked in the resulting silence.

In the privacy of his thoughts, Kinch agreed, but he couldn't voice it aloud. "They probably had somebody man the radio who also didn't know about the objective."

Hogan nodded. "He certainly didn't seem to grasp the importance." He shook his head. "We can't wait for London. We only have a few hours left before the major is on his way to Berlin. We need to try again now!"

The despair in Hogan's voice had finally penetrated the cloud of LeBeau and Newkirk's ire. "If London doesn't think we need to try again, why should we? They didn't even make it an order!" Newkirk glared at Kinch before he glanced to Hogan. "So why bleed," he asked and glanced to LeBeau, "or die for it?"

"Oui," LeBeau voiced his agreement. "It's not as if we were trying to retrieve the plans for the invasion."

Kinch startled. Glancing to LeBeau who stood next to Newkirk with his arms crossed, he realized that they really didn't know.

Hogan balled his fists and faced them. A smile without hope graced his features. "Actually, these papers were the plan for the invasion."

Stunned and looks full of disbelief greeted Hogan's revelation.

"We just left the Nazis our plans for the invasion that a German spy had managed to steal from London. It's too late to stop the plan for the invasion. Maybe they can do some small adjustments, enough to mix up the details, but either way the Germans will know where to place their guns to make it a massacre." He squared his shoulders.

If Newkirk looked sick before, now he looked even worse. Carter gaped at them as if they had lost their mind, or maybe hoping that he was just dreaming. LeBeau blinked furiously, his hands balled to fists so tightly that there would be imprints of his fingernails on his palms. Kinch knew he didn't look better, but he was used to hiding it better.

"To answer your question, Newkirk," Hogan said in an utterly calm and quiet voice, "it's either our blood or the blood of our guys running into machine gun fire. We get to choose."

* * *

_TBC_


	2. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Special thanks to Abracadebra for beta reading! Thank you very much! All remaining mistakes are my own._

Carter was the first to recover in the stunned silence that had filled the radio room after Colonel Hogan's revelation. "How could they lose the plan? Not even I would have lost something that important!"

Newkirk and LeBeau stared at the colonel as if he had just told them they had lost the war. In a way it felt like it. Frozen, Newkirk didn't even take the bait Carter had left.

"They didn't lose it." Hogan's voice startled the occupants of the room. "It was stolen. Not all the Germans are as incompetent as our beloved Kommandant Klink and Sergeant Schultz. Some of them are stunningly cunning and managed to snatch these plans." He started to pull off the rest of his German uniform. "MI6 apprehended the spy on a ship leaving Britain, but he was killed in the struggle. They couldn't recover his body or the paper as he went overboard."

"So how did the paper end up in Germany?" LeBeau asked. On his face there was no trace of anger anymore, just weary dread.

"London thinks that the body washed up on the beach somewhere in France or maybe Spain," Kinch said, shrugging. "Either way, the Germans found their spy and the plan hidden on his body. But without his story they apparently hadn't realized what they had discovered."

"And that was our clue," Newkirk climbed to his feet, his hand balled into a fist in an attempt to stifle a pained sound from escaping his mouth. "If we had managed to snatch the papers before they studied it, we could have recovered the operation."

"We still have time to retake them," Hogan stated. This time nobody protested. "Ideas?"

Kinch looked from one face to the next. But nobody was struck by inspiration. At last, he eyed Hogan, but not even he seemed to have any brilliant ideas.

"All right." Hogan clapped his hands together. Slowly life and energy returned to his body language but with a dangerous desperation lurking beneath the surface, ready to latch on any and all opportunities regardless of the consequences. "Let's go through the plan once more. We need to find out what went wrong. How did it start?"

"The whole plan came together two days ago as Schultz ..." LeBeau started.

* * *

_"Hmmm." Schultz closed his eyes and inhaled the aroma. "LeBeau! Apfelstrudel!"_

_With patience LeBeau didn't feel, he smiled at his guest of honor. "I added some different spices and thought you would like to be the first to try."_

_"Oh!" Schultz' mouth was watering._

_LeBeau offered him a piece and Schultz devoured it. "It is delicious! Delicious!" He took another bite. "But I do not taste a new flavor. It is delicious as always."_

_"That's how it should be, isn't it?" LeBeau asked and took care to appear as innocent as he could while knowing that he hadn't even bothered to taste it before declaring it finished. He had baked so many pastries since Colonel Hogan had arrived in camp, that he could do it blindfolded and with a hand tied behind his back. Well, maybe he needed both of his hands, but the sentiment remained. He didn't even need to make an effort anymore._

_Schultz didn't say anything, simply grabbing another piece of apfelstrudel._

_"So," LeBeau began. They were alone in the barracks; everybody else had preferred to escape the heat he produced by baking. One of these days, he would make them stay, just to show how hard his part really was. "So, what have you brought back from the market for me?"_

_The German sergeant swallowed his bite and put another one in his mouth. "You did not ask for anything," he said with his mouth full._

_"I thought you enjoyed my new creations." LeBeau smirked. It was so easy to rile Schultz up. "I need new ingredients if you want me to continue to create new things." He wiped away the sweat from his forehead._

_A deep sigh escaped Schultz' mouth. Looking mournfully at the nearly empty plate, he sighed again, before he looked back to LeBeau. "There is nothing left there. Major Arnheim has bought or confiscated everything for his party."_

_LeBeau hesitated and memorized the name. He was, after all, on a recon mission. "Too bad that the Gestapo gets everything," he took a stab in the dark, hoping for a confirmation from Schultz. He wasn't spy material but he was learning._

_"Not the Gestapo," Schultz said. "It's a diplomat from Spain on his way to Berlin who has family around here. Apparently he knows people in Berlin." Schultz shrugged. "Either way, he wanted to have a big welcome back party and_ _he_ _bought everything that was good."_

_"Then the man has taste," LeBeau said, but he was already distracted by the new information. A visiting diplomat was definitely good intel for Colonel Hogan and London._

_"Ha! Taste. Funny." Schultz laughed out loud and took the last piece. "He wants to invite Colonel Klink because he had served him so well last time he was on his way through here."_

* * *

"... and that's how we got involved. London jumped for joy as we checked in and ordered us to retrieve the package before it reached Berlin." Kinch rubbed at his chin. Most of the time he didn't stumble over his words, but the word joy shouldn't have been allowed near any conversation with London and yet it was the only fitting one. He sighed and shoved the thought away. "Also, we knew that the diplomat we were looking for would be stopping by for a party and that Klink was invited."

"Yeah," Newkirk continued. "We just needed to lift his invitation," he paused to take a shallow breath, "and then we had the location and time."

"You copied the invitation, but changed the date," Hogan added with a smile but there was a new concern on his face as he eyed Newkirk, who was visibly uncomfortable. "Then Klink received our new invitation for a day later, so I could go in his place at the right time."

"A big risk you took there," Kinch said. "Klink is known around here."

"But not his adjutant he had sent because he had to run the toughest POW camp in all of Germany and would come by later." A small grin flickered across Hogan's face. It was the last fun they had before everything went wrong. "Either way," he dropped the smile and was serious again, "I took the staff car and Newkirk hid in the trunk."

"That was one bumpy ride, govern'r." Newkirk still held his side and Kinch started to get worried. "Everything went fine, the Colonel went inside and I …"

* * *

_Newkirk popped the trunk open but held it mostly closed. At first, he listened for nearby noises. Everything was quiet. In the distance he could hear some birds and voices drifting over from the party. He paused, listening intently. The nightingale entertained the forest. Hopefully, her song meant that everything was safe for him. Slowly, he opened the trunk and looked around._

_"Good parking spot," he murmured. Colonel Hogan had parked the car in a way that the trunk was completely hidden by the shadows of the house and faced the nearby woods._

_He climbed out and carefully closed the trunk again. That should be an easy mission. He just needed to wait for the colonel to toss him the rope, get the safe, get the papers and hid again in the trunk. Easy._

* * *

"... and so I waited for the signal and a hint about where the safe was waiting to be touched by my magic fingers." Only a ghost of a smirk crossed Newkirk's face. The current situation was too dire for his usual humor.

Hogan nodded. "I went in with Colonel Klink's invitation and made some small talk until Carter and LeBeau came in."

"Oui, we were the distraction," LeBeau stated neutrally, while his face already reflected the shock how his part of the mission had ended.

"Oh boy, what a show," Carter finished.

* * *

_/_ _LeBeau dropped the rope next to the winding staircase and gave Carter a sharp nod. It was time._

_Carter smacked his riding crop against the banister._ _"What is going on here!"_ _He_ _used his_ _most_ _obnoxious voice in his best German._ _Between_ _his_ _black SS uniform and_ _the sight of his loyal shadow_ _LeBeau_ _clutching_ _a machine gun,_ _Carter was_ _ensured immediate and complete attention. "Is this how the fine Wehrmacht and Luftwaffe support the war effort?"_

_The music stopped_ _at once_ _._ _Only a single violin played another bar before it also screeched to a stuttered halt. Klink couldn't have done it better-or worse,_ _depending on how you looked at it._

_He raised his chin and stalked to the buffet. Silence and a few nervous chuckles followed his way. He picked up a pickle. Looking around, he made sure everybody watched him as he put it into his mouth. He took his time to chew and swallow, allowing the tension to rise. "Black market dealings." Conveying his dismay in his expression, Carter slowly stalked around the room._

_Without remorse, Carter borrowed one of the favorites line from their very own SS major. "Heads will roll!"_

* * *

"In the confusion nobody saw me going upstairs. The second room I checked was the right one. I opened the window and tied the rope," Hogan finished without missing a beat.

"Everything was going great." Newkirk rubbed a hand across his face. "I climbed up and had almost opened the safe as I heard a scream behind me." He shuddered. "I turned and saw the maid running away."

"And that's when everything went downhill," Hogan stated with a morbid calm.

"Yeah," Carter said and looked down. The black uniform didn't seem to fit now that he had returned to his normal posture without the arrogance and ignorance. He was the last to change out of his German uniform. "She came screaming downstairs that there was an intruder in the office."

"That's how you got hurt?" Kinch addressed Newkirk.

Hogan startled and jerked around to face Newkirk. "You're hurt?"

Newkirk tilted his head to glance at the colonel out of the corner of his eyes. "I knew that I had to get out of there, so I scrambled down. But I wasn't fast enough. As the shooting started, I jumped. The landing wasn't as soft as I had hoped." He shrugged and then winced. "Either way, the trunk wasn't an option anymore, and so I ran into the woods and hid until you guys picked me up."

"Somehow Major Arnheim knew that we were just a distraction and pulled his gun on us before we could leave the villa," Carter said. "That's when you tapped him on the shoulder, and we made a run for it."

"But that didn't prevent him from starting to shoot," Hogan said. The memory about these events played across the dark and fearful faces of those involved. He shook his head, trying to banish the memories. "But he only managed to hit his own adjutant who stepped into his line of fire unexpectedly." Hogan finished, crossing his arms. "At least he bothered to render first aid to his man."

That unlikely act of compassion seemed to have been the tipping point, allowing them to flee into the night. "So, in conclusion we just had some bad luck that the maid checked the room the moment Newkirk was in there? But our luck held so you could all escape?" Kinch asked.

"Oui," LeBeau said. "We hid in the forest until Colonel Hogan had managed to get the car."

"We slipped through the road blocks until we had to abandon the car and run," Hogan said. "Remind me to come up with a good cover story for Klink how his staff car could have been stolen."

"We barely made it to the emergency tunnel," Newkirk finished the tale. "It was too close for comfort."

Kinch shook his head. "I don't see how there's an opening for a new plan if our first plan wasn't all that bad."

"No, it's-"

"Colonel Hogan?" Garlotti, who had watch upstairs, rushed down the ladder. "We got company at the front gate."

* * *

_TBC_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A/N Thank you for reading!_


	3. Back to the Drawing Board

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _2019/04/07 Scenes per chapter reset. Unbetaed._

"That's one of Arnheim's men!" Hogan lowered the periscope.

"Alone?" Kinch asked. He didn't want to allow hope, but in this case they were due to some luck. Maybe he was just asking for some guards to help out.

"Yes," Hogan said. "Let's hope that's not the advance guard for Arnheim."

That was by far the more worrisome thought. If they had been made, their spilled blood would be in vain. He'd rather donated it for the greater good.

Colonel Klink didn't leave them in the dark for long, too busy to show off his perfect record. Only mere minutes after he had been dragged away from his dinner, Klink hurried across the compound and rushed into barracks 2 with Arnheim's lieutenant on his heel. "All of my prisoners are present. Nobody has ever escaped from my camp!" He made a grand gesture around the room. "Schultz!"

The big German soldier arrived at the door just in time and out of breath to hear the unspoken order. "Jawohl, Herr Kommandant." With more caution than warranted, he started to count the prisoners. "Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, ..." Slowly, he made his way around the room until he sighed relieved in front of the last one. He made about face, smartly saluted and made his report. "All prisoners are present and accounted for."

Klink didn't bother to return the salute. Instead, he turned to the lieutenant. "See. Everything is in perfect order," he rambled on. "You should tell Major Arnheim that he can't just come here and -"

"Stalag XIII was the nearest location to find men with such an accent," the young man said. It was as much an apology as a justification.

Klink narrowed his eyes, feeling a rare victory. For once, he didn't have to hide anything and planned to use this fortune. "You made an unfounded accusation and -" Klink stalked out of the barracks with the lieutenant poisoned to followed him.

Hogan stepped in his path without blocking it. "Where is Major Arnheim actually," he whispered. "Shouldn't he be lectured by Klink? You were only following his orders." Playing at the current circumstances was a good idea to find an ally or at least a willing informant.

But the man didn't take the bait. Instead, a dark expression flashed across his face. "Get out of my way," he growled. Hogan didn't need to be told twice. He knew when to accept defeat and stepped back.

In the doorway, the lieutenant lingered. Out of the corner of his eyes, he mustered Hogan. "The major is at the hospital making sure that Kramer, his adjutant, gets the best medical care available. He doesn't need to also deal with Colonel Klink." The lieutenant straightened and followed Klink out of the door, ready to take whatever Klink would say stock-still like a good soldier. The wind carried the sound of Klink's voice across the compound. It never wavered. Apparently, he hadn't even realized that he had lost his audience for a good part of his speech. But that wasn't anything new.

The lieutenant had provided more information than Hogan had hoped for. It was a first – a German lieutenant voluntarily dealt with Klink out of concern for his shot comrade.

Schultz was the last to leave. "No monkey business." He raised his index finger in warning but the weary sigh as he closed the door meant probably that he knew this wouldn't happen.

"Do you think Arnheim still has the papers with him?" Newkirk asked.

"I'd take them and then drive straight to Berlin, but at the very least I'd take them with me wherever I go." Hogan tilted his head while he crossed his arms. "Any ideas?"

"Taking everything we have and storming the hospital."

"Without any plan or reconnaissance?" Kinch was the first to protest. Not so much the idea, but the bad planning worried him. "We're dead before we cleared the lobby. Or we could be shooting until we're out of ammo without ever coming near the papers."

LeBeau opened his mouth but Hogan beat him. "He's right. That's a plan with the lowest chance of success." Hogan paced. "We need to do all of it in one go – reconnaissance, planning and execution."

"I could go back in uniform," Carter offered. "If his lieutenant didn't recognize me, maybe he -"

"Arnheim started to shoot!" LeBeau interrupted him. "He was going to shoot us."

"That's good." Hogan stopped, his finger tapping against his chin.

"That's not good." LeBeau crossed his arms, scowling furiously.

"But it is a good distraction," Kinch finished the explanation before Hogan could do it. "He's going to come after Carter the moment he recognizes him."

"And then?" Newkirk started to cross his arms but then abandoned the move and made a grimace. "The moment we start shooting we're back at square one. Everybody comes running, and we can't steal the papers nor ensure their destruction."

"I could knock him out," Kinch said. If they all went out, it wouldn't matter if he stood out. "If Carter draws him away from the others, it could even be done silently."

"And then what?"

Hogan wandered over to Kinch and clapped him on the shoulder. Kinch raised his eyebrows and mustered the sly smirk on Hogan's face. The colonel had a plan. All right.

* * *

"How did it go?" Hogan asked the moment Kinch had opened the bed to climb up.

"Without a hitch," Kinch answered. It was an understatement but the success far more important than the small troubles that had plagued them. For the first time the team had waited on him and not the other way around.

"Finally!" Newkirk made a fist to celebrate the victory only to double over in pain. He should have learned by now to move carefully. In the background he could see Wilson's disapproving glare. Apparently, they all had used the time wisely.

"Details!" LeBeau demanded as Kinch took the offered cup of cold coffee. Behind him, Carter climbed out of the bed and closed the hidden entrance.

"Well, at first, we had some problems-" Carter started.

* * *

_"I can't find the hospital. Are you sure we're on the right road?"_

_Kinch didn't roll his eyes, barely. "There is only one road and only one hospital. Just carry on."_

_The near darkness made it difficult to see anything. At the least, it was the end of May and the days were long enough to try this mission so late._

* * *

"After a few wrong turns," Kinch glared at Carter, "we got to the hospital. The whole place was crawling with Germans: Wehrmacht, Abwehr, SS and Luftwaffe, you name it they had at least two people there."

"So they knew the importance," Hogan mused.

"It was actually really good, because nobody asked me for my papers," Carter added. "Nobody was surprised to see another uniform."

"It wouldn't have matter. The paperwork was perfect. I had forged it myself!" Newkirk protested. He smiled despite that he was benched. Since the announcement that they had managed to beat defeat once again, they all were high on happiness.

"I only needed to find Arnheim ..." Carter continued the tale.

* * *

_Carter marched around the floor. Whenever he played a German, he knew that going straightforward was the way to go. No sticking to the sidelines as the guards far more often checked people there. If you appeared to know what you're doing, nobody bothered you._

_But inside, he felt the fear grabbing his heart and squeezing it._

_After he had circled around the first floor without seeing Major Arnheim, he entered the stairway._

_His heart beat fast and his hands were wet with sweat. He almost wished for Newkirk or LeBeau right beside him, or maybe Colonel Hogan as backup. But in this mission he only had Kinch and Kinch could only help him with a phone call or in the shadows. This part of the mission he had to do alone._

_Finally, he spotted Major Arnheim at the far end of the corridor. The antiseptic smell of the hospital burnt in his nose, but he carried on._

_Only as he spotted the briefcase fixed with a handcuff to Arnheim's wrist, he hesitated for a moment, considering his options and the wisdom of their plan._

* * *

"According to the plan, I looked for an empty room that could be accessed from the garden, so Kinch could climb up," Carter continued. "The first three rooms didn't have a window and then the windows were to the front of the hospital," he explained. "And then-"

"And then he found an empty room that was accessible," Kinch interrupted him to shorten the tale. "But the search for a suitable room had alerted Arnheim and -"

"I don't really see how my search could draw the suspicion of Arnheim," Carter defended himself. "I was careful." He pursed his lips. "But -"

"Wasn't that the plan?" Hogan interrupted Carter's rambling. In his knowing look, Kinch recognized understanding and request to let it rest. Both knew that Carter had been oblivious of how he appeared if he checked room after room. In the end, it had played in their favor and that should be enough.

"Anyway," Kinch said and he sat down at the table, the team around him eager to hear the rest of the story, "I hadn't even cleared the window frame as -"

* * *

_Suddenly, the door flung open. Carter startled and almost let go of Kinch's arm he had grabbed to help him climb into the room. Kinch seized the wooden window frame and jumped in._

_"Wha-"_

_Kinch dropped the bag, surged forward and threw a punch without pausing to take aim. Major Arnheim went down without making a sound. Kinch caught him and lowered him to the floor._

_Carter had recovered from the surprise in time to see Kinch's worried glare. He went to the door to close it. "Major Arnheim, glad that you could join us," he said aloud. Then he pulled the door shut. Kinch needed a moment to realize the words had been for anybody who could have see Major Arnheim opening the door. It could buy them the necessary time. But Kinch wasn't willing to take any chance and bolted the door._

_Looking around, Kinch allowed himself a deep breath. Arnheim was down and Carter and Kinch still undetected. Not too bad._

_"Set the timer for the bomb and then let's go." Kinch bent down to grab the dropped bag with the bomb and held it out for Carter._

_Carter hesitated, studying his work. Kinch sighed. How did the others deal with these last minute changes on a mission?_

_"What if he wakes up?" Carter stared at his bomb. "He could use his body to shield the briefcase. Or maybe the leather actually protects the papers enough to still be readable."_

_Kinch closed his eyes. That was the problem with fast, last minute and knocked together plans. They weren't properly thought through. "Carter," Kinch said, worry worming into his voice. He tapped against the leather of the surprisingly sturdy briefcase. If Carter was right, then their second chance would be meaningless._

_While Carter tried again to open the briefcase, Kinch looked around. The room Carter had chosen was fitting him, full of test tubes, chemicals and other materials used in a laboratory. The smell and sight made their chemist surely feel at home. Walking along the shelves, Kinch studied the labels of the chemicals. His knowledge about chemistry was slim but glancing above his shoulder Kinch reminded himself that he had brought their resident expert with him. An idea started to take form in his head. That could work._

* * *

"We were in a laboratory," Kinch said. "A lab full of all chemicals."

"Chemicals?" Hogan asked. He had to be wondering if his second-in-command had lost his mind as he changed plans on the fly. "Did you build a bigger bomb?"

"No." Kinch allowed the grin to grace his features. "Acid."

Carter nodded, his grin threatened to split his face. "Yes, acid to burn through everything. I just needed to make a hole in the briefcase, add the right chemicals and then -"

"- then we just needed to wait for the papers and part of the briefcase to dissolve," Kinch finished. "I can confirm that the papers were successfully destroyed without any chance for the Germans to read them at all." Now his grin matched Carter's happy smile.

"And you didn't even use a bomb." Hogan seemed to be impressed. "Not bad." He gave them an approving nod. "That also explain how you escaped undetected and silently."

Kinch nodded. "We didn't wait for Arnheim to regain consciousness," he explained. "Instead, we left as fast as possible through the window."

LeBeau smirked. "See, nobody can keep us down."

Newkirk clapped Kinch on the back. "I give you a five. If I had been there, I'd picked the lock, and we would have taken the papers. So, it's only a five."

"But we destroyed them. Without making any sound!" Carter protested. "That's far better!"

Grinning, Hogan went to the head of the table and sat down. "Berlin won't ever know what our plans had been. That's the only thing that matters."

Kinch nodded in agreement. It had been close, really close to a failure. But they had prevailed.

For the rest of the night and the next morning, they enjoyed the jubilant mood around the camp, the good food and the hope for an early end of the war. They didn't know yet that it was just an illusion.

* * *

It was almost noon as the door to barracks 2 opened. "Colonel Hogan." Schultz entered with a bounce in his step and said, "The commandant wants to see you, right away."

Hogan raised his eyebrow. "What does he want now?"

"That I do not know," Schultz replied, closing his eyes to scent the air.

LeBeau smirked. "Sorry, Schultzie, I still don't have any ingredients for a new apfelstrudel. You'll have to wait."

Schultz face fell. "But there I cannot buy anything. Could you ..." he trailed off, hope on his face.

"We can't do everything for you – not escaping, guarding ourselves, counting the prisoners and hiding the radio so you won't have to make a report." Hogan listed his points while he stood up. "Some work you actually have to do yourself."

The hope on Schultz' face vanished, leaving only despair until he settled on a resigned expression. "Jolly jokers!"

Light laughter followed Hogan and Schultz out of the door.

"Come on," Newkirk said as the door was closed and jumped up. "Let's listen in. That's got to be good."

Together, they hurried to Hogan's office and plugged in the coffee pot. Beside the desk and bed, Colonel Hogan had put back his drums to celebrate with some music, or better with drumming.

" _Isn't it a beautiful day?_ " Klink's voice came through the tiny loudspeaker.

"He sure is in a good mood," Carter remarked with a tilt of his head.

"I don't like him in a good mood," Newkirk agreed. Worry settled on his face and he leaned forward on his elbows without putting any weight on them to prevent any strain on his ribs. Kinch remained standing, his back straight, ready to tackle the next problem.

" _You wanted to see me, Herr Kommandant,_ " Hogan said.

" _Yes, yes, Colonel Hogan_." A chair scraped across the floor as Klink stood up. " _I just have to share this hilarious story with you. You won't believe it._ "

Kinch swallowed hard. The commandant sounded downright gleefully. He caught a worried glance from LeBeau. The last time Klink had been so gleeful, they had ended up with Crittendon as the new senior officer.

" _Oh you're too generous. But I don't want to impose and -_ "

" _Sit down, Hogan!_ "

No protest meant that Hogan had complied. Kinch was always happy whenever he didn't need to deal with Colonel Klink. Hogan was the only one really qualified to run the camp around the commandant.

" _You see, my friend, the good Major Arnheim-_ "

" _Major Arnheim is your friend? Yesterday, you played a different tune._ " Hogan was back in fighting form. Colonel Klink had to use bigger guns to keep Hogan down.

" _No, no. Major Arnheim is a friend and a loyal German. He actually fought off the underground. Of course, I helped but -_ "

"Oh boy," Carter said, "he's talking about us." He paled. "That can't be good. That's really not good. I mean -"

"Shut up, Carter," Newkirk growled.

" _... and then they used some acid to destroy the suitcase that didn't even hold the papers because they were already in Berlin._ " Klink laughed out loud. His laugh echoed in the silent room as the loudspeaker of the coffee pot unmercifully forwarded the sound.

" _Don't you understand, Colonel Hogan?_ " He giggled. Colonel Klink honest to goodness giggled. Kinch swallowed hard, feeling nauseous. " _The underground destroyed complete harmless papers in a highly dangerous way but Arnheim was just too smart for them._ "

" _So he had the papers delivered to Berlin after all and didn't deliver them himself?_ " The colonel's voice was faint and lifeless just as Kinch felt.

" _Yes!_ " Klink clapped his hands. " _Whatever secrets they tried to hide – Berlin now knows it all!_ "

* * *

The door fell shut behind Hogan. "Did you listen?"

Kinch nodded. The hard truth settled like a heavy cloak on every men, dragging them down. "I'll inform London-"

"No!" Hogan said in a sharp voice. "I'll do it."

LeBeau hurried to the bed that they use as tunnel entry and hit the mechanism to open it.

"Corporal!" Hogan's order stopped him. He held up his hand. "I'll go alone."

"Sir," Kinch began, but Hogan turned and silenced him with a single glare. It was supposed to stress his order but Kinch could only see the pain in it. The burden of command pressed down on his shoulders. London had been clear – they couldn't change the plan anymore. Kinch nodded and watched Hogan going down alone. Maybe, just maybe, he could explain this to London.

Newkirk cursed and dropped down on the bench while LeBeau for once was quiet. Not even the passionate Frenchman found words for this. Kinch glanced to Carter who looked so lost, that Kinch forgot for a moment what he needed to do.

And then, the bed opened again and Hogan climbed up. It had been a short call. He didn't need to ask how it went. One look at the colonel was enough. "I can't believe I had to repeat myself again," Hogan muttered and went to his office. He closed the door, sealing himself off the world.

Kinch glanced from the door to the tunnel entry, unsure where he was needed more.

A shout born out of frustration came from Hogan's office followed by an impressive display of his prowess in drumming.

He knew where he wasn't needed. So he strode to the bed. "I'll be down there. Maybe London has an idea."

* * *

_TBC_

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _No matter how it seems, this story honors Werner Klemperer's request to never let the Nazis win. They won't._


	4. A Pawn in the Game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first two scenes were originally part of chapter 3. But the chapter break had been moved to end chapter 3 on a better note as long as chapter 4 has not been posted. The scenes per chapter may be reversed again in a few days. 2019/04/07 Original chapter break.   
> Thanks Abracadebra for the challenge.

Kinch was sharpening his pencils. They were already pretty sharp but maybe he could make them sharper. The radio had stayed stubbornly silent the last two days. London had accepted the report about the failure with the same indifference as the first time. But Kinch knew there would be an aftermath. You didn't fail such an important mission without any consequences. He had never bothered to find out what possible sentences there could be, but in time of war they were harsher than in peacetime.

"So," a voice said behind him, startling Kinch. "What's going on?"

Kinch swirled around and glared at the intruder. "Olsen," he said in greeting and nodded to him. "What are you doing down here?"

Their outside man leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. Apparently, he tried to look relaxed but the deep frown on his face betrayed his real tension. "What happened?"

Kinch turned back to his task. His pencils were sharp enough that he could use them as weapons; used against the neck or into the eye, they could even be deadly. "Nothing," he answered without looking up from his task. "Why do you ask?"

His guest snorted. "Why do I ask?" Olsen circled the table until he faced Kinch. "One. Newkirk has lost all games today. It's like playing with a ghost. He doesn't even mind that we're cheating, or maybe he doesn't even see it. I'm not sure that he is even in the same room."

Olsen leaned forward against the table while Kinch gave him a barely visible shrug.

"Two," Olsen continued, "the soup tasted worse than what was offered in the German mess hall. If I didn't know it better, I'd assume LeBeau was trying to kill us with salt."

Kinch hadn't left the radio except for roll call and for some sleep. The bread LeBeau had brought him had been dry and hard but if he believed Olsen better than the soup.

"Three," Olsen said while he used his fingers to show the number, "Carter is trying to create a new explosive to destroy a safe from the outside -"

As if to make a point, the tunnel shock with another failed experiment. Dirt and small pebbles rained down on them but Kinch was used to it by now.

"- and nobody is stopping it as the Colonel is holed up in his office and you're down here. So yes," Olsen said and straightened, "I think something did happen and I'd like to know what."

Another explosion rocked the tunnels. Olsen cowered while Kinch remained sitting, drumming his fingers against the table. Carter's attempts were harmless compared to the figurative explosion that would happen some day in the near future.

"Preferable before I die in a cave-in," Olsen added while he straightened again.

Kinch sighed. "You'll know when the whole world knows," he said fully aware how cryptic he sounded. But his tired thoughts couldn't produce any better words.

"That's reassuring," Olsen said with more heat in his voice than the situation warranted.

Kinch glanced across the table. Worry had produced a hard tenseness around Olsen's shoulder that wasn't usually found in this easy-going guy. Maybe they had really acted worryingly. He sighed again. "It's-"

Before he could add another charge to their ever growing list of failures, the radio crackled to life. Kinch dropped the pencils. The way they scattered across the floor ensured that he could return to sharpening them again after this call.

"I'll get the colonel," Olsen said and sprinted upstairs. Kinch watched him running off, surprised that he knew that the colonel would be needed. The damage by the unexpected failure had been far more outspread than assumed. Somehow, he had missed how the rest of the camp had elected Olsen to come down and make sense of them.

With more dread than usual, Kinch answered London's call. Hogan came down without his usual smirk. Nothing in the way he moved showed the reluctance he surely felt. Only as he grabbed the radio Kinch could see the small trembling in his hand.

Kinch caught his eyes and nodded his support before he turned and left the room. Some calls had to be done without an audience.

He stayed near, not going upstairs, but also far enough to only hear Hogan's voice without being able to understand the words. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and waited.

"And?"

Kinch jerked in surprise before he recognized Newkirk. Beside him, LeBeau and Carter also had come down.

He shrugged.

"What are they going to do?" Carter asked. "Surely, they can't blame him. We did our best."

"Oui. We even tried it a second time."

"We still failed," Newkirk muttered. "Something like that never ends well." The dark expression on his face told a story, but Kinch was too tired to figure it out right now.

"I don't think there's a tutorial or a book of rules for the work we do. So it's not like-"

"What!" Hogan's voice was loud enough to carry his shock across the room and around the corner where his team was waiting.

"We'll hide him with the Resistance. They won't get him," LeBeau said and nodded to Newkirk as if they had already planned ahead. "After the war he'll be just a French citizen."

Kinch was speechless for a moment. "You can't -" Then he broke off. It wasn't a thought he hadn't entertained himself, but he knew that Colonel Hogan would never go for it. He would bend, re-interpret and stretch an order, but he would never outright refuse one. Whatever London would order him to do, he'd do it.

"With all due respect!" Now Hogan sounded only angry not shocked.

"Do you think they'll relieve him off his command?" Carter wrung his hands. "I don't know if I can survive this without ..." he trailed off. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Carter only knew Stalag XIII as a spy command post and never had to live through the beginnings when it had been a normal POW camp.

"Yes, yes. Papa Bear out!"

It was their signal, and they moved as one.

Colonel Hogan stood frozen next to the radio. His hand was still balled into a fist. He neither seemed angry nor annoyed. Kinch narrowed his eyes until he could label the expression – frustration. "Colonel?"

Suddenly Hogan started to laugh.

Kinch glanced around but was only met by confused and slightly worried stares. He didn't think that London could actually say anything that would break Colonel Hogan but the laugh sounded slightly maniac.

"Sir?" Kinch tried again to get his attention. "What did London say?"

The laughter died down. Sighing, Hogan turned to his men, a dark smirk tugging at his lips. "We got played!"

"What!" Newkirk did outrageous like nobody else except maybe LeBeau.

"What!" The Frenchman said right on clue. Then he paused. Irritated, he tilted his head. "What do you mean we got played?"

Kinch had a bad feeling about this. What if London really had been happy that they had failed? What if they were meant to fail? He closed his eyes in defeat. "It wasn't the real plan."

"No," Hogan said and the last traces of laughter vanished from his face. "They were decoys." He shook his head. "They had created several fake plans with wrong dates and places."

"And the German spy stole such a fake plan? Or was this plan left for him to find?" Kinch asked, but in truth he could guess the answer.

"Yes, but the German High Command didn't take it seriously enough." Hogan found his smirk again. "But what good does a decoy do if it's not taken serious?"

Finally, LeBeau freed himself from his shock. "We were willing to die for a fake plan? Nothing has changed for the invasion because they got the papers? I almost -" he broke off, his lips pressed together to keep the words in.

"They can't do this!" Carter blinked. "That's not nice."

Newkirk snorted. "We do it all the time," he snapped back, "you have yet to complain about it."

LeBeau muttered in French, his eyes blazing in anger.

Hogan sighed. "It was necessary so the real plan has any chance to succeed. Now the Germans are going to position their troops and anti-aircraft guns somewhere far off the right beach, and we'll get into the Fortress Europe. We were meant to fail. It was our part."

"Hey!" Olsen called from above through the bed opening. "Schultz is looking for you, LeBeau. You may want to make an appearance before he calls in the dogs." His gaze lingered longer as if he tried to guess what was going on. Kinch would love to help him out with that but for the time being he wasn't even sure himself what all of this meant.

"Alright." Hogan clapped his hands together. "Time to get back to the business at hand." He looked over to Carter. "No more experiments with new explosives. We need our tunnels."

Carter nodded. But the expression of hurt stayed on his face.

Kinch didn't know if he took it harder that they had failed or that they had been played. Either way, London was really putting everything into D-Day. They were willing to shatter trust and working teams to raise the chance of success.

"LeBeau, taste your stuff before you offer it to anybody else. The soup was almost deadly."

LeBeau shrugged but nodded. "I'll save some of it for the guys in London. Maybe drop it onto their head."

That got a smirk out of Newkirk. "You Frenchmen wouldn't even -"

Colonel Hogan held up his hand and stopped him. "Let's not get into this now."

"We almost died for these papers," Carter whispered. "Why didn't London tell us that they were fake?"

Newkirk sighed. "If we wouldn't have desperately tried to get these papers, the Germans wouldn't have taken them serious. It's easy like this." He shrugged. "They played it well."

It all came down to it. For London, it had been worth it, but as Kinch looked around and noted the solemn faces he asked himself if he agreed with that assessment.

"It doesn't change anything at all. Making the decoy believable was as important as protecting or retrieving the real plans. Actually, it may have been even more important." Hogan was back being the perfect leader and officer. "Every single gun that's not aimed at the patch of beach our guys are going to land is a win and worth our blood."

For a motivational speech, it wasn't bad. Kinch didn't really felt better about being played. But everything was fair in war and love, and it never had been about his feelings after all.

Carter, LeBeau and Newkirk nodded and slunk off to their respective duties. Most likely, they all were needed to calm Schultz down, who had been by now running around the camp in search of LeBeau for a long time.

Watching them go, Kinch resigned himself to stay down here for a few more hours. As he went by the colonel, he saw the mask of the perfect officer and gentleman slipping for a moment, showing just how hard the last few days had been on him.

"I know what they say – treat people like you want to be treated."

Kinch didn't say anything. It wasn't like Colonel Hogan expected an answer to his musings. He bent down and retrieved his pencils. Two of them were broken. Good news was that he would have time to fix them as nobody was being recalled or relieved of duty. And yet it seemed like a fitting allegory for their situation.

"So, I guess I don't like how I treat people," Hogan continued his musing, "because I don't like being Klink in this game, no matter how important it is." He made a face before he sighed again.

Kinch nodded. "That's our sacrifice for the victory." He could acknowledge that they neither acted nicely nor honorably most of the time even if he didn't lose any sleep over it.

"Let's hope D-Day is actually worth it."

"It's the beginning of the end," Kinch said. "It's going to be worth it." He balled a fist. It had to be worth it.

Hogan gave a single nod. Then he turned and left.

Kinch remained alone in the silent tunnel once again. Whatever sacrifices they had to do would always pale in comparison to the men storming the beaches.

He grabbed his knife and started to sharpen the first pencil. Better be prepared for whatever London else would need.

* * *

Nobody was surprised as a few days later, London ordered Colonel Hogan for a quick meeting to London. While LeBeau and Newkirk assumed that it was still about the failure, Kinch was fairly sure that somebody in London had realized how far they had pushed and wanted to repair the damage by trusting Hogan with more details about D-Day.

Of course, Hogan brought back an even crazier mission. But that too, was just part of the game.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the real life "Operation Bodyguard" - to quote Wikipedia: A World War II deception plan employed by the Allied states before the 1944 invasion of north-west Europe. The plan was intended to mislead the German high command as to the time and place of the invasion. The plan contained several operations, which culminated in the tactical surprise over the Germans during the Normandy landings on 6 June 1944 (D-Day) and delayed German reinforcements to the region for some time afterwards.  
> Thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> _Thank you for reading!_


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